


Duck and Berries

by casbean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (between cas and jimmy), Angst with a Happy Ending, Archeologist Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Happy Ending, Historian Dean Winchester, Implied Bottom Dean/ Top Cas, Jimmy Novak is a porn star, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Violence, Misunderstandings, Phone Sex, Tattooed Castiel, team switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean
Summary: A story about a meet cute, a duck confit, and a small matter of mistaken identity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this prompt](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1v4-b9c0JkZN5qfXey032ZYis5yaOIvZ5/view?usp=sharing) (spoilers, look at your own risk)
> 
> I don't have a fixed posting schedule but I should post once or twice a week, at the minimum. It's not a very long fic.
> 
> I'll be adding tags as I go along and add chapters. 
> 
> Big love to [cas-lost-grace](http://cas-lost-grace.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing. <3

 

Castiel has started to notice it happening.

The looks. People have begun staring.

Whispering, even, sometimes. He's not sure what it's about. It makes him feel anxious, self conscious. He always checks himself, wondering if his pants have a hole in them or if he forgot his shirt, if he has food on his face or toilet paper stuck on his shoe.

And then he meets him. And he suddenly doesn't mind the staring as much.

 

He's grocery shopping at the organic store around the corner. There's a guy. Cas spots him as he's picking out some pomegranates. He only sees his back - broad, thick shoulders nicely filling out his t-shirt. He can spot freckles on the back of his neck and along his arms, and he likes it.

The guy turns around and Cas almost stumbles backwards. So many freckles. Golden specks running across the most perfect face Cas has ever laid his eyes on, and pink shiny lips in the shape of a bow. A bow shooting an arrow straight for Castiel's heart.

And his eyes - Lord Almighty, so luminous they could shine light in the darkest forests. Eyes that are currently devouring Castiel, sliding up and down his body, that perfect mouth tugging into an appreciative grin.

He's doing it.

That man is doing that thing that people keep doing, except he - he looks like he's... actually... enjoying what he's looking at. A lot.

"Hello," Cas says, because the man keeps staring, and he doesn't seem to realize that his eyes can't actually undress him, and Cas is getting the urge to use the pomegranate to cover his crotch.

A sudden and gorgeous blush spreads on the man's cheeks.

"Oh. Uh. Hey. Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Do you want a pomegranate?" Castiel offers.

The guy stumbles back against the fruit display, knocking out several grapefruits and sending them rolling to the floor around them.

"Sorry. I - no - sorry."

Next thing that Castiel knows, the man has ran out of the store, leaving his basket half full in the middle of the alley and Cas utterly puzzled.

 

Castiel takes more notice of the looks people give him after that. They're definitely not negative ones. Men, especially, seem... appreciative. Which is nice. New, though. People never really took notice of him before. He's pretty ordinary looking. In high school he was a thin, skimpy kid who kept to himself. His brother Jimmy managed to make their blue eyes and sharp jaw look cool with his punk outfits and his tattoos, but Cas was never that bold.

Sure, now he runs and does yoga and fills out his sweaters, but it wouldn't suddenly make a quarter of the population check out his ass like it's a piece of meat, would it? And it's not just the men. Some women, too. Really, it's as if his nudes have gotten leaked all over the internet. Cas would worry about it except that he has never, ever taken nude pictures of himself. No one else has either.

The last time he had sex, cameras had barely been invented.

So.

What the heck?

 🍒🦆🍒

Cas can't stop thinking about him. The guy from the grocery store. With his apple green eyes and those insanely gorgeous lips. He liked the way the man looked at him. A lot.

Cas sees him again a few time, but he always seems to flee when their eyes meet. Usually because Cas turns around and catches the guy staring at his ass. Eyes green like grass pastures under the sun... Sun kissed skin, freckles like the country night sky...

But Cas can never gaze at him long because he always bolts out the door whenever he gets caught.

Until one day he doesn't. Cas walks into the store and finds him standing in front of the spice shelf, hands on his hips, wide shoulders squared. Cas moves silently behind him and peaks into his basket.

"Duck confit. Audacious."

The guy startles and jumps around, almost falling back into the rack as he trips on his heels. Cas grabs him by the arm and waist, avoiding him a most humiliating fall that would definitely have knocked down hundreds of spice containers and probably several rows to the floor.

"Thank you," the man says, breathless, as he lets go of his grip on Cas' shirt.

His breath tickles Cas' mouth. It smells like fruity bubblegum. He leaned into him when Cas caught him, their faces are inches close, their bodies intertwined. Cas steps back.

"I'm sorry I startled you."

"Yeah. You're like a ninja or something."

The man's cheeks are very red, and it makes his freckles stand out. It's stunning.

"What were you looking for?"

It takes the man a moment to answer, his eyes wide, staring at Castiel like he's not sure he's real.

"Um, Juniper Berries."

"Oh. You won't find them here."

"Really? Damn it." The man's face falls, his composure changes. "I've done like eight grocery stores to find them. This is the fanciest place in town."

Cas grins, preening a little.

"I know. They're impossible to find. That's why I grow my own."

The stranger runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"Guess I'm gonna have to do my confit without them. Most of the recipes don't need them anyway."

"It's much better with, though. Disappointing without, really, I wouldn't bother."

Green eyes squint at him.

"Well since I don't grow weird berries in my garden, I don't have much of a choice."

Cas wets his lips. The man already seems to be regretting his impertinence. He shifts his weight, rubs the back of his neck. He's still flushed. Cas wonders if he always gets this flustered around strangers. He also wonders if his lips taste as sweet as they smelled.

"Maybe I could help you out, then."

Cas' heart pounds a little faster - he doesn't remember a time in his life he's been this bold. But there's a definite curiosity in the man's eyes. A hope. And Cas is enraptured by it.

"Yeah?"

"You bring the duck, I bring the berries. We could… share a meal."

The man's gorgeous mouth falls open. And then he smiles.

"That's an idea."

He stretches out his hand.

"I'm Dean."

Castiel takes it. It's broad, warm.

"Castiel."

"Castiel? Really? That's your real name?"

It's not the first time Cas gets that question.

"Yes. My parents were... special. Castiel was the angel of Thursday. It's quite a mouthful, I know. Call me Cas."

"Right. Cas."

They exchange phone numbers, fingers light and shaky, and then make their ways to the register. Dean keeps shooting Castiel quick glances, and Cas isn't sure how to interpret them. How to decipher these eyes constantly on him, detailing him from head to toe. Not that he minds, exactly. They're gorgeous, and warm, and he doesn't get enough of looking at Dean either.

They walk out together in silence, until Cas reaches his car. Dean looks at him. He fidgets with his bag. He's absolutely adorable.

"Is it, uh - is it like-" He bites his lower lip. It's so plump, so pink. "Is this like a date thing?"

"Only if you want it to be."

There's that boldness again, coming from God knows where. Cas holds his breath.

Dean grins. Wide.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

Cas wonders if he should've kissed Dean, but it feels too soon, and then he's gone.

 

He should probably have waited more than ten minutes after arriving home to text Dean. But he sucks at this whole... dating, or whatever, etiquette. He wants to see him again, he wants to see him soon, and who cares if he looks overeager. He is.

Dean responds so fast it's almost as if his phone was already in his hands. They can't seem to find a date that fits them both for the coming week, which Cas is disappointed about, but in discussing their hold-ups they get to talking about other things. About Dean's family - his mom, his brother. His other mom and his step-sister.

They talk about Cas' life as well, his friends, this stupid cocktail parties he has to attend at school. He hates those, but networking is important, especially right now that he's just graduated and is looking for a job.

He learns that Dean has studied history, specializing in medieval weaponry. Which springs a very long and elaborate conversation between them that lasts between one and four a.m. about their favourite weapons and time periods and the coolest artefacts they've ever found. They're talking on the phone by then - Dean called around midnight because the text bubbles just couldn't contain all they had to say.

"Archeologist, uh," Dean says when Cas tells him his own degree. "That's hot. Like Indiana Jones. Or Brendan Fraser in The Mummy."

"As an historian, you should know movies like that never depict our jobs accurately. Field work very rarely results in vengeful spirits being released or heroically fighting off Nazis. Sadly."

"I'm still gonna picture you running around with a whip and a plunging neckline," Dean replies in a salacious voice.

Cas' breath catches in his throat a little. "Please do."

They hang up around five a.m., bickering about who's fault it is that neither of them has gotten any sleep.

🍒🦆🍒 

"I'm sorry about having to cancel," Cas says as he walks around his apartment, grabbing things and shoving them in his suitcase.

"Hey, I get it."

Dean's voice is warm through his phone. They finally found a night that fit them both and were supposed to have their duck confit date tomorrow, but Cas actually got the field job he applied for months ago and needs to catch a plane to California in the morning.

"I don't want you to think it's because I'm trying to get out of it. It's a last minute work thing. I didn't think I had gotten in and I just got the call..."

"Don't worry about it."

"I might be gone a month," Cas stresses out. "I'm very sorry."

"A month? I didn't know shoots took so long."

"Shoots?" Cas frowns.

"Isn't that, um - aren't you... shooting...?"

"No. I'm going on a dig. What would I be shooting?"

"I -um - it's-" Dean stammers. "Because you said California. I thought - L.A., y'know. Show business. I assumed you were going on a shoot."

"I don't do any consulting, unlike you," Cas says. "I'm going on a dig."

"Oh. Hey, that's great! You got a field job like you wanted! That's awesome, Cas. 'M real happy for you."

"Thank you," Cas grins. "I'm just sad I have to cancel on you."

"Postpone," Dean corrects.

"Really?" Cas bites his lips, trying not to grin too wide, even though Dean can't see him.

"You kidding? I'm getting that date, Cas. Don't care how long I gotta wait."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big big overload of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you [cas-lost-grace](http://cas-lost-grace.tumblr.com/) as always for reading this over and fixing my little mistakes <3

Cas never thought that he'd be that guy one day. That guy constantly checking his phone with is heart beating a little too fast and a big grin on his face. The guy falling asleep with said phone tucked against his ear and someone else snoring on the other end of the line. The guy taking pictures of everything he does just to send them to his... his Dean.

He's not sure how he got here. But he did.

They talk almost every night on the phone, about nothing really, because they already know everything that happened to each other through the day. They text and snapchat, Cas sends Dean pictures of the dig, of everything that makes him think of Dean, cool things he finds, snaps his food or his bus ride or the sky.

Dean sends him pictures of the movie set he's working on, consulting for the weapons in the battle scenes - he's a certified geek who, on top of having a postgraduate degree in history, has worked as a stuntman and can design battle scenes. He keeps sending Cas selfies with the actors, with the weapons, with the makeup team, and Cas saves them all, because he's so gorgeous.

The first time it happens Cas debates whether he should do it or not - he isn't sure he's allowed to save pictures of Dean on his phone. It's not like they're dating or anything, they haven't even been on the one date they have planned.

He can't help himself, though. Dean is wearing a dark red henley that hugs his broad figure and stands next to an actress in full-body armour with an awesome reproduction of a double-harpoon that Dean had designed himself. He's grinning wide, freckles standing out in the light, crows' feet around his shining green eyes.

Cas can't let that picture be lost forever in the snapchat void.

His phone buzzes a moment later.

**_D: I saw that ;)_ **

_C: what?_

**_D: saved my picture ;P cute_ **

_C: you can see it?_

**_D: yea ahah_ **

Cas' heart hammers in his throat.

_C: shit._

**_D: you're cute_ **

_C: it wasn't because of you. im a big fan of_

Cas' last brain cell fires up and he drags Dean's pictures through a google image search.

_C: annmarie newcastle_

**_D: who's that_ **

_C: the woman standing next to you_

**_D: how much googling did u have to do to find that_ **

_C: ..... dark web_

**_D: so cute_ **

Cas chews his bottom lip. It's a good thing he's in his hotel room with no one around to see how much he's blushing right now. Dean has called him cute _three_ times. He wants to bury his face in the pillow.

**_D: u owe me some selfies though. want something exclusive_ **

Castiel sighs. He really needs to stop chewing on his lips so much, it's becoming a problem. On the plus side, it makes them pinker and plusher. He snaps a picture of himself half hidden in the pillow, looking straight into the lenses. It feels weird, as he's not used to taking pictures of himself, but Dean has alluded before to liking his eyes, and they're definitely very visible on that photo. Well, one of them is, as well as one very pink cheek and half of his mouth.

**_D: fucking adorable. how are u real?_ **

Cas would like to ask the same thing to the millions of butterflies in his stomach.

_C: stop. you're making me blush_

**_D: come on. you?_ **

_C: what does that mean? i blush a lot_

**_D: i feel honored that i can make you blush, then_ **

 🍒🦆🍒

**_D: morning gorgeous_ **

Cas' eyes are still too swollen from sleep to be able to type any kind of reply, so he just snaps a picture of himself, all dishevelled and unshaved. He realizes too late that he's not wearing a shirt - good thing he's half wrapped up in the covers still.

_**D: holy shit** _

**_D: warn a dude_ **

Maybe it was too early to show Dean how barely human he looks in the morning. Puffy eyes and sheets printed on his cheek is not a great look.

_C: sorry. i look like hell in the morning_

Cas frowns when he sees the little message indicating him that Dean has saved the picture.

**_D: dude u just sent me a pic of urself with no shirt and sex hair_ **

**_D: now im gonna have to go to set all worked up_ **

_C: sex hair?_

**_D: yes. u have sex hair dude_ **

_C: well I'll let you imagine what my hair looks like when I've actually had sex then_

**_D: DUDE tryin to work here!! rude_ **

 

"Did you manage to get any work done at all?" "

Yeah," Dean says in a gruff voice. "Wasn't easy though. Why didn't you shave today?"

"You said you liked my face this morning. Unshaved."

"Yeah," Dean grumbles. "So now you're gonna let it grow just to torture me?"

"Torture, really?"

"Yeah, dude. You're on the other side of the country being all gorgeous and hot and sweaty with your hands in the dirt and I'm stuck here, locking myself in the supply closet so no one can see how dumbstruck I look when I open your pictures."

Cas laughs. He's relieved to know he's not the only one making that face whenever he opens a picture Dean has sent to him.

"You really think I'm hot?"

"How is that even a question?"

"I don't know," Cas shrugs. "You might be the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I find it quite incredible that you think I'm... actually attractive."

There's a shocked silence on the other end of the line.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, um." Dean clears his throat. "Sorry, just, trying to process the fact that the sexiest man alive called me the most beautiful man he's ever seen, sorry."

Sometimes (often, these days), Cas' face actually hurts from smiling too much.

 🍒🦆🍒

"Hey."

Dean's voice is rough. It's past ten p.m. but Cas has only just gotten back to his room, having had to sit through drinks with his colleagues because that's what people do, apparently. At least Dean had sent him selfies and texts all night long to distract him.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just, uh... Watching something."

"Something?"

From the arousal in Dean's voice, Cas can guess the kind of content he's watching.

"Yeah. Is it weird?"

"Why would it be weird? We're both adults with sexual appetites, Dean. You're allowed to watch whatever you want. As long as it's legal material, of course."

Dean snorts.

"Jesus, Cas. Yeah, it's legal. It's, um. It's yours."

Cas frowns. "Excuse me?"

"I was watching you... perform. Is it - is it weird?"

"You were masturbating to the video of me dusting a clay pot I sent you?"

"No! Christ, Cas," Dean laughs. "I mean, I'm... I'm watching one of your movies. Y'know. And I've still got my pants on, so don't get too excited."

"My movies?" Cas' frowns deepens. "You found my old movies?"

Cas had no idea those things could even be found on the internet. He did quite a bit of acting work for film students when he was an undergrad, as a way to supplement his income. He was usually just an extra or played background characters, but sometimes even took the lead on small projects. Some of those movies weren't bad, made it to underground festivals and were seen by some people, but it was still student work, and was never in theatre and certainly not on TV. Cas was never credited for it either, never had his name on any actor website, so he has no idea how Dean got a hold of them.

"How did you find them?"

"Uh, kind of easy to find, Cas," Dean chuckles.

"And you find that arousing?"

As student films were, they all explored very different themes, and some did dabble in more sexual aspects - especially those from one peculiar male student who seemed to only be in film school to have an excuse to film naked women legally - but Cas does not recall ever being fully nude on camera.

There was that really weird one, though, which was basically just an hour long orgy. Cas never appeared full-frontal, but did kiss several people and mimicked compromising position - clothed. It was supposed to be artful.

He was assured it would never find itself on the internet.

"Well, yeah. You're kind of insanely hot. And, uh, y'know. Good. At what you do."

Dean's voice is definitely laced with lust. Cas is flattered, even though those movies were shot years ago. He feels bad that Dean is watching them though. He remembers reading those scripts and cringing.

"It was just to pay the bills," he explains. "Most of those films have a terrible plot and weak characters-"

"Cas, I really am not watching this for the plot."

''Right."

It's kind of nice that Dean would put himself through this just to watch Cas say a few terrible lines.

"I'm sorry," Dean suddenly says. "It's weird. I shouldn't - I made it weird."

"No. I'm - I'm flattered that you find me attractive enough to watch those."

Cas' lips curl into a smile. Sometimes he still can't believe that this man - this man with those impossibly green eyes and a jaw sculpted by God himself, a man who is so smart, witty, hilarious, incredibly kind and ridiculously attractive - likes him, Castiel. The eternal second choice.

No one's ever really noticed him before. No one's preferred him, liked him this way, wanted to - wanted him like this. No one's ever been ready to wait months for him, to look at all the damn pictures of rocks he sends and pretend to care, and in exchange update him about their exciting life. No one's ever cared the way Dean does. Like he actually thinks about Cas just as much as Cas thinks about him. Which is all the time.

It feels too good to be true.

"But that was a long time ago," Cas reminds Dean.

"Really? Posting date on this is just two days ago."

He can hear the genuine surprise in Dean's voice.

"I'm guessing that it's just the upload. These were shot years ago, when I was an undergrad."

"Oh." He can hear the frown in Dean's voice. "That explains the tattoos, I guess."

"Yes, I've gotten more tattoos since then. I've changed quite a bit."

"Yeah. Right. Sorry, I - I hadn't realized."

"I've been here for almost a month, Dean. You'd know if I'd been shooting a movie."

"I guess I just didn't think - I mean, it's none of my business what you do, Cas, s'not like we're exclusive or anything."

Cas raises his eyebrows. "Is this about the orgy one? Do you think I've been pretending to do a dig but been secretly tongue fucking people in front of a camera instead?"

"I-" Dean seems to have a hard time finding his words. "I didn't- it's not what I meant." Cas hears him take a deep breath. "This isn't how I thought this conversation would turn out," Dean finally says, weakly. "Look, I don't- I know those movies aren't like real life. I don't care what you do on camera. Or - or off camera," he adds, but his voice has changed. "We never talked about it. Not that - we were supposed to. I mean -"

"I'm not shooting any more," Cas cuts.

He's not sure why it matters at all, but it seems it does. Maybe he'd be a bit unsettled too if he accidentally stumbled upon a short film of a faked orgy featuring Dean.

"Nor am I having any orgies in my spare time. And maybe we should talk about it."

"We're not... we're not dating. We haven't even been on one freaking date yet," Dean mumbles.

Cas guesses that he buried his face in the pillow, which is why his voice comes out muffled. He smiles.

"No. So maybe we should not be talking about exclusivity at all. And I don't mind what... or who, you do in your free time."

Okay, it's a little bit of a lie, Cas isn't exactly warm at the thought of Dean fucking someone else when he texts Cas _good morning beautiful_ every day, but at the same time, he gets that he isn't there, and they aren't dating, and this isn't really a thing.

"But just so you know, I don't have anyone else in my life right now. Not even casually. It's actually been quite a while."

"Really?"

Dean always seems so surprised when Cas mentions that not everyone falls at his feet all the time, and Cas can't figure out why.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why has it been a while?"

"Yeah, I mean, if anyone can get some, it's you."

"And why would that be?"

"Well, 'cause, I mean, you're - you're _you_."

"You seem to be the only person on the planet who thinks that being me is anything to write home about."

"Believe me, that's not true, Cas. You got fans. Like, die hard fans. Pun intended."

Cas scoffs. "I doubt that."

"Cas, who _are_ you? Have you ever been on the internet? Ever read the comments on your movies? Ever been on twitter?"

The question baffles him for a moment. He knows what tweets are. Vaguely.

"I follow subreddits about archeology and weaponry, but that's as far as I venture on the _interwebs_."

"Explains a lot. What kind of public personality doesn't have twitter?"

"Since when am I a public personality?"

Sometimes, Cas doesn't even follow their conversation. It's like Dean is suddenly talking about something else entirely.

"You're an actor, Cas. I mean. Kind of."

"I would not call it that. And as I said, it was years ago. I'm an archeologist. I don't need a twitter."

"Right. Sorry. I didn't mean - Sorry."

Cas doesn't even know why Dean is apologizing.

"To return to our previous subject," he says to fill the silence that follows, "it has been a while for me. So I hope you'll forgive my awkwardness, sometimes."

"You're not awkward, Cas. You're just... so damn cute. And hot. Makes me lose my bearings a little."

There he goes again, saying things.

"And I'm not seeing anyone else either. Only got you on my mind."

 🍒🦆🍒

"We should really decide on a date," Dean says on night.

Cas is laying in bed in his hotel room, body sore from digging and sweeping and cleaning artifacts under the beating sun all day. His phone is on his chest, Dean's gorgeous voice coming out through the speakers.

"A date?"

"Yeah, a date for our date. The duck thing."

"Oh. Well, as soon as I come back."

"Yeah, but I mean. I want a day. I want to know the day. I don't want you to come back and then we spend three weeks trying to find a day that fits. I know you're not coming back for two more weeks but I just-"

"The 24th."

"What's the 24th?"

"My flight is on the 24th, at nine a.m. Give me some time to shower and clean up, and be at my place at five."

He hears a low chuckle on the other end of the line.

"Alright. Wasting no time, then."

"I thought that's what you wanted."

"It is, I'm just - glad we're on the same page."

🍒🦆🍒 

"I miss you."

It just slips out. Castiel is tired, eyes closed, hugging the pillow on which the phone with Dean's voice is laid.

"Miss you too," Dean replies without missing a beat. "Can't wait to see you."

"Are we crazy?" Cas frowns. "I'm hugging a pillow right now. This isn't normal. I've met you twice."

"Yeah. I think we are. But I'm, uh. I'm in this. I mean, when a guy makes me throw my grapefruits, I'm hooked. Can't let him go."

"Yes, why did you do that?" Cas laughs. "You seemed so scared when we first met. And you just ran out. It was very odd."

"Seriously? Dude. I mean, the sexiest guy alive, who I had seen, amongst other things, do an orgy, was standing right besides me at the grocery store-"

"You had already seen my movies?"

That's new information. How the Hell had Dean found those movies before he even knew him?

"Yeah. I mean. That's kind of why I was checking you out. I had a huge crush on you. Then you caught me checking you out like a piece of meat, probably thought I was just another pervert, and asked me if I wanted a pomegranate, so I kinda lost my mind."

"I didn't know you were an underground film amateur."

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Cas huffs. He's going to have to have a serious talk with Ryan. Apparently the video that was supposed to Never Exist on the Internet has become a fucking world wide web sensation. Maybe he should go check out those comments sometimes. Although he's not sure he's ready to know what they entail exactly.

"There was no reason to be afraid of me."

"Now I know that." Cas can hear the smile in Dean's voice. "You're the biggest dork alive. And I mean that in the best possible way."

Cas laughs.

"So you still have a crush on me?"

"Yeah. A much bigger one."

🍒🦆🍒 

It's late, and Cas is almost asleep when his phone lights up with an incoming call. He smiles anyway.

"Hey."

"Hey, Cas." Dean's voice is a bit rough around the edges, an octave lower than the toe curling rumble it's usually at.

"Watching my movies again?" Cas teases.

"Nah. I don't know. 's kinda weird now."

"Why?"

"'Cause I know you. And I..." There's an intent in that pause. "I don't know. Just feels like I'm watching this other version of you and it's kind of... cheating, y'know."

Cas' heart thuds at those words. For a moment he wonders if he should tell him about the real other version of him that’s running around in the wild. Better not. 

"Well, I was playing characters," Cas reminds him. "But I don't mind it, if that's what makes you hesitant."

"I know. I just - I dunno. I don't, um. Really wanna. Anymore. I mean, I like who you are, in real life, and I know that it was acting and fake and all that but I don't really, I mean, I'm not jealous or anything I just, I don't - I don't know."

Cas laughs softly. "I see."

"You said it was part of your past and I wanna respect that, is all."

Cas' mouth tugs into a smile.

"Plus it doesn't look like you that much. I mean, it does, it's you, obviously, but it's not - not you, not Cas, it's - I don't know, no the you that I-" Cas hears him take a deep breath. "Anyway, that video Hannah took of you yesterday is way, _way_ better than any scene you've ever done. Like, a thousand times hotter than the orgy."

"You mean the one where I'm digging out that weird thing that we thought was a bone but turned out to just be a really really old fossilized dog poop?"

"Yeah. You keep like... stretching out real nice and your ass is fucking on point in those pants. And your tongue when you lick it? So hot. Plus your voice on video is porn in itself, Cas, I mean, it’s all rough and you were sweating through your shirt... Fuck I'm getting turned on talking about it right now."

Cas laughs. "So that's what does it for you? Me sweating because I'm in California in 90 degree heat, and my voice being rough because I'm thirsty and angry that I've accidentally licked dog poop and not a bone?"

Dean's laughter is a warm roar in Castiel's ear. But his tone is everything honest when he answers.

"Yeah, actually. It does. So keep 'em coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr [here](http://casbeanie.tumblr.com/) or [here](http://casbean.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally, some smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cas-lost-grace](http://cas-lost-grace.tumblr.com/) is an actual angel

 "I, um. Should go to bed. Gotta take care of stuff."

"You're going to masturbate, aren't you?"

Cas isn't sure why he asks. They're both aware that they do it, and they usually know when -  Cas is pretty sure Dean's texted him a couple of times with his dick in his hands. Cas certainly has. But they've never actually talked about it.

"I said take care of stuff, Cas."

"What are you gonna watch?"

"Well, I really like that video you sent me of you just talking about clouds. And touching your lips."

"I was touching my lips?"

"Yes. A lot. Real hot stuff."

He likes the idea of Dean getting off, thinking about him. Watching him.

"D'you ever watch yourself?" Dean suddenly asks. "Like in your old movies?"

"No. I haven't seen them in years."

"Yeah. That'd be - that'd be weird."

"Some people may enjoy reminiscing about their old work and seeing how it turned out, but I remember enough to know it's not worth watching again."

"Oh, it is. Believe me."

Cas snorts. "I think you're the only one who thinks so. You have a bias."

"Dude, the hundreds of thousands of views on there are telling another story."

"Maybe it's like _The Room_. People watch it because they're horrified."

"How the hell do you know what _The Room_ is? I thought you never went on the internet?"

"I used to hang out with film students, Dean. Of course I know what _The Room_ is."

"Alright, well - that dude had no idea what he was doing. Kept fucking her bellybutton the whole time. Believe me, you... you know what you're doing. You really..." Dean lets out a deep, longing sigh. "Really do."

"I was directed," Cas gently reminds him. "I am very far from that in real life. I think if I ever were to find myself in an actual orgy, I would probably just roll up in a ball and wait for it to be over."

Dean pffts. And then.

"What if you were in front of me?"

Cas breath catches in his throat. He can hear his heart boom boom-ing in his chest.

"Would you know what to do?"

Cas is pretty sure he knows what Dean's asking, especially when he hears him breathe a little faster through the phone.

"I hope so."

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to know?"

"Yeah. Tell me."

Oh, God. Okay. He can do this. Cas closes his eyes and imagines himself standing in front of Dean again. He's about an inch taller. Square jaw, plush lips drawn so purposefully. His eyes. Cas' not even sure yet if he'll be able to survive actually looking into Dean's eyes again.

He barely got a whiff of Dean's scent the last time he saw him, when they parted in the parking lot of the organic store. He smelled like deodorant and the Earth and also like gingerbread a little bit.

Good heavens.

Cas hasn't even kissed him yet. But if he lets himself think about it, really think about it - there's about a million things he wants to do to Dean.

"Your freckles," Cas breathes out.

"Yeah? What about them?"

Dean's tone is honeyed, enticing him to keep speaking.

"I'd kiss them. All of them."

"That'd take a while."

His voice is a low rumble right against his ear - Cas can almost imagine that he's right here with him.

"I don't care."

Maybe it's how settled Cas' voice sounds when he answers, but he hears a noise on the other end of the line. Pleasure, stifled, against a pillow maybe.

"What else?"

"I would..." Cas' blood rushes to his face. He feels silly. It's so stupid, and it's not enough. "Touch you."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Everywhere."

He thinks about Dean's body under his palms as he presses the heel of his hand to his groin. The whine he lets out is not missed.

"Cas-"

"Tell me what you like. I'd want to please you, Dean. Touch you right where you need it."

Dean lets out a keening sound and Cas knows that somewhere back home he's mirroring his own gestures. Adrenaline courses through his veins. They probably shouldn't be doing this. They haven't even kissed, haven't even held hands, never saw each other naked, not even a dick pic - but here they are, ragged breaths and whispered desires.

"Want you to kiss me. Wanna feel your lips, they look so fucking good. On my neck, too. Want you to bite me."

"Nipples?"

"Yes," Dean pants. "Yes, fuck. Touching them right now."

Cas groans. He slides his hand down his stomach, slipping past the waistband of his underwear and wraps it around his throbbing cock.

"I'd kiss and bite them until you'd scream for me to stop."

Cas isn't sure where the hell that came from - if not the maddening image of Dean's chest under his lips, of his nipples under his tongue - but Dean seems to be very on board with it.

"Oh. Fuck."

"Then I'd move down. Kiss your stomach. Your hips. Your thighs. I'd part them wide for me, kiss the soft skin inside. Leave a bruise there like a nebula amongst the galaxies."

A whimper answers him, and the sound of wet skin on skin. He barely knows what he's saying, and has no idea how astronomy has made its way into his words, but he can't help thinking about the stars when he thinks about Dean's skin and the hundreds of freckles spread on it.

"I'd take your cock in my mouth. Stretch my lips around you. Swallow you down until you hit the back of my throat." He smiles a little at the thought. "I have no gag reflex which I think you'll find very pleasing."

"Shit, Cas-"

"But I'd stay just long enough to taste how much you want me. Then I'd move down."

"Gonna fuck me, baby?"

Cas tries to ignore the shivers that run under his skin at the nickname.

"Do you want me to?"

"Fuck yes."

"Then be patient."

Dean whines. Cas slows down the strokes around his cock and palms his balls, trying to tease himself. This is way more arousing than it should be. Dean has been in his fantasies ever since the first moment he saw him, all those weeks ago, but now - now it's getting real.

"I'd grab your cheeks and part them, slide my tongue between them."

"Yes, Cas. Like that."

"I'd tease you. Make you beg for it. Do you like being eaten out, Dean? Do you like feeling the burns of my scruff between your cheeks, feel how wet I'm getting you with my tongue?"

"Fuck yes, Cas, fuck-"

"I've been told I have quite a long tongue, very strong, too," Cas continues, lost in his words, in the thoughts of his face buried in Dean's ass.

"Yeah I know you do, Cas, I know you fucking do," Dean moans, and Cas can hear him starting to lose control.

He loves every second of it.

"I'd fuck you with my tongue as deep as I can go. Eat you out with my lips and my mouth and my teeth, fucking bite your cheeks and suck at your hole, you have no idea how fucking hungry I am for you, Dean."

"Jesus christ, Cas, jesus _fuck_ -"

"I'd eat you out and fuck you with my tongue until you'd beg for me to touch you, until you'd shake around me, ready to fucking come on my tongue alone."

"I could. Cas, I swear I fucking could."

"I know. Not this time though. I'd get you right on the edge and then I'd stop. I'd love to watch you squirm. I dream about what you sound like, what you look like when you're about to come."

Dean only responds by a muffled groan and Cas grips at the base of his dick. Clearing his mind enough to keep saying words is a humongous task right now, but it's too important to mess up.

"You'd be so eager and wet that two fingers would fit. It'd be tight but it'd fit, and you'd love it, I think you'd fucking love being stretched just a little too fast, Dean."

"Oh, fuck yes, Cas, fuck-"

"But I'd barely let you enjoy it. I'd fuck them right into your prostate, hard enough to make your scream."

Dean lets out an audible cry - Cas has no doubt that he's doing by himself everything that Cas is describing right now.

"And I'd take your cock back into my mouth, suck you down hard. And I'd let you fuck yourself down my throat, and back against my fingers, again, again, and again, until-"

He hears Dean cry out, hears a thump - possibly him arching off the bed and falling back against it. Cas fucks into his fist a few times and comes with a whimper, mind filled with pictures of Dean with his mouth slack and his stomach wet, his thighs parted and his eyes fluttering.

"And then," Cas pants, his chest still heaving with the release of his own pleasure, "then I'd lick you clean. Swallow every last drop you would've given me. And I'd kiss all of your freckles again one by one."

He can only hear ragged breathing on the other end of the line. He waits a moment before adding, "and for round two, I'd fuck you with my cock until you came untouched."

"Shit," Dean finally says, his voice rough. "Holy shit, Cas."

"Was that alright?"

"I-"

Instead of an answer, Cas receives a picture. It's Dean's stomach, covered in thick white stripes. A lot of it. And the caption, _yeah, it was alright_. He answers with a snap of his own fist and chest, wet and sticky.

"Fuck," he hears Dean say. His voice is wobbling. "Holy fuck, Cas."

"You keep saying that."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"Are you okay?"

"I - I mean. Yeah. I just - that was, uh, intense."

"Too much?" Cas frowns. He has to admit, he didn't quite expect the turn it took, although it was all based on things he had picked up about Dean.

"No, t'was fucking perfect. I just - wish I could touch you, is all. Hold you," Dean says it in a hushed voice, like he should be ashamed. But Cas understands. "Getting fucked this good and not getting to even kiss you isn't fair," Dean adds in a murmur.

Cas does something they haven't done before. He's not sure why they never did it. Never dared, maybe. He taps on the little green camera icon. His heart is still beating hard. He's laying down, having wiped himself clean, and holds the phone up on his side. After a few agonizing seconds Dean's face appears, in the same position, smushed against the pillow. His cheeks are red. His eyes are dark.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," Cas smiles in return.

 🍒🦆🍒

"So... real soon."

"Yes," Cas murmurs. He can't stop smiling. His dig is wrapping up and everything went well. He made excellent connections, earned some savings, and has leads on a future job back home.

And in two days, he'll see Dean.

"Are we still doing the, uh. The duck confit?"

"Do you still want to?"

"I mean. Still haven't cooked one. Don't have the berries."

Cas smiles. "We can. It was the plan. I think we should have a real first first date."

"Yeah, I agree. Gotta keep ourselves busy so we don't just... y'know."

"Jump into bed?"

Cas can almost hear Dean rolling his eyes through the phone.

"Not on the first date, Cas, c'mon."

"What else are we supposed to do while that thing cooks?"

He can hear Dean's breath shudder. "You got a point."

Teeth dig in Cas' abused lips.

"Do you think it'll be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

Cas worries his lip some more. _Because I make things weird._

"I don't know. I'm awkward."

"Worst case scenario, I just find you so adorable I can't speak for a few minutes. But I think we'll get through it."

Cas really needs to do something about those butterflies before they see each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr [here](http://casbeanie.tumblr.com/) or [here](http://casbean.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Dean and Cas get their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much [cas-lost-grace](http://cas-lost-grace.tumblr.com/) for the continuous support <3

Cas should have kissed him. All he's done for the past week - ever since the incredible, mind-blowing phone sex - is tell Dean how much he wants to kiss him, hold him, touch him.

Yet when he opens his door and finds him on his porch, in a fucking button-up shirt, Cas freezes. He has seen each and everyone of Dean's outfit for the past month and not _once_ has he worn a button-up shirt. And he's smiling, too, his eyes shining under the porch light, looking so fucking beautiful. The phone cameras and the shitty hotel room lights really didn't do him justice.

He's tall and gorgeous and smells like gingerbread and Cas should kiss him, or hug him, but Dean loses his smile a little bit when their gazes meet, his eyes go wide and his lips part, and he doesn't move either. So they just stare at each other.

Cas should have kissed him. But he didn't.

Instead he avoids his gaze and steps aside.

"Come in," he stutters.

Dean does, with a shy smile on his lips. He's holding a bouquet of wildflowers. He knows Cas prefers them, he must have picked them out on the way.

Cas takes the flowers, their fingers brush. He should kiss him. Dean's cheeks are so pink and his eyes flutter around. He looks just as uncomfortable as Cas is.

_What if I make things weird?_

Cas has agonized over it all day. Has changed outfits five times, even though Dean's seen him in all states of dressed and undressed. It's different in a picture. He didn't want him to change his mind, didn't want Dean to spend one awful, awkward night with him and realize that Cas is not the dreamboat he thought he was.

It's not starting out well.

Cas babbles. Asks Dean about his day, in a shaky voice, even though he knows every detail of it already. Why did they think that talking and texting non-stop was a good idea? Now they have no material left for small talk. He puts the flowers in a vase with some water while telling Dean things he already knows. His hands are shaking.

"Cas."

His voice is different in real life. Cas had forgotten. It's smoother, richer.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He needs to steady his nerve. But it's difficult with Dean existing so fucking close to him. So fucking calm. Like this is fine.

Cas feels a hand on his lower back and jumps. He didn't expect it - he'd been turned away fiddling with the flowers trying to get himself together, and he thought that Dean was several feet away. But he's right there and Cas yelps, swings around and hits the counter behind him. In an attempt to keep his balance he tries to grab on to the wood and accidentally knocks off the vase, and he watches, in slow motion, the crystal plunging towards the floor.

Cas shuts his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

The crash doesn't come. Instead, he hears Dean letting out a chuckle, and opens his eyes to find him standing up straight - apparently, he lunged forward and was able to catch the vase, with the flowers and the water almost all still in it, before it hit the floor.

"Everything's fine," Dean says.

He's careful not to touch Cas as he puts the vase back on the counter behind him. His scent overwhelms him, and he wonders if Dean just lays down in a batch of fresh baked gingerbread cookies before leaving his house in the morning.

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"No, I, uh. I startled you."

"I'm really not good under pressure," Cas tries to offer. He doesn't know how to tell Dean that this isn't about him. Well, it is, but it's not, it's just about Cas being an idiot. "I told you this was going to be weird. I make things weird."

To his surprise tension seems to roll off Dean's shoulders and he grins, wide. "And I told you I'd think you're just really fucking cute."

Cas knows he's about as red as a beetroot, but he doesn't care. Dean's eyes are so soft on him and he feels like he's floating on a cloud.

They stare at each other for a moment.

"I'm really happy you're here," Cas says.

"Yeah. Me too."

And Cas thinks he should kiss him, but he knows that if he does, he won't be able to stop. So he turns around and walks to the fridge, taking out a bowl full of Juniper berries.

"I have some berries."

He pushes the bowl towards Dean.

Dean grins and takes the duck out of his bag. "And I got some duck."

Dean takes out his tablet and puts it on the counter. He's got a recipe on it, and they stand side by side reading it, arms and shoulders brushing. Cas immediately jolts away.

He breathes a little better if there's some air between them.

They gather the ingredients. Their fingers touch, sometimes Dean's fingers graze on his back, lean on his hip as he moves behind him. It's soft, it's gentle - Cas can feel his breath on the back of his neck. Every time, he flinches.

"Cas?"

Castiel keeps crushing the spices together, ignoring him. Fuck. His cheeks are so hot they might as well cook the duck on them.

"Do you not want me to touch you?"

Cas leans forward, turning on the stove, setting a pan, and pouring the spices in.

"It's not - it's that I don't want you to touch me," he says, slowly. He busies his hands with the first thing he finds, garlic cloves. "It's that if - if I let you touch me, I'm afraid I won't be able to think or be accountable for my behavior - and we said we'd cook, so."

He casts a quick glance at Dean, who's been prepping the duck a few feet away. His eyes are dark. And his cheeks are very pink, too.

"Oh."

"Maybe we should just focus on this, for now."

"Yeah," Dean murmurs. He keeps gazing at Cas so intensely that Castiel is forced to look away. "Let's just focus on the recipe. Take it one step at a time."

 🍒🦆🍒

The tension between them has been increasing exponentially with every step closer to putting the duck in the oven. When Cas removes his oven mitts, he can feel Dean's eyes on the back of his neck.

"It's in," he says, uselessly, as if it isn't the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"Yeah. Now we just gotta wait."

"Yes."

Why can't Cas just turn around and kiss him? Why is he so fucking scared?

"Can I touch you now?"

"Yes."

It's a really fucking needy moan that escapes his lips when Dean's arms wrap around his middle. When his nose press against his shoulder, when he feels his cheek - burning hot - pressing against his jaw. Cas' fingers grab on to Dean's hands, to his wrists, anywhere he can reach to tuck himself tighter in his embrace. He turns and kisses his temple, nails raking at his neck, as Dean gently kisses his skin and chuckles. His breath is so warm.

"Jesus, Cas. And I thought I was the needy one."

Cas only responds is a non-committed sound and his fingers urging Dean's to grip him tighter. An hour ago, a barely brush of finger sent him jolting, and now he feels like he can only breathe if Dean's entire body is pressed against him, if the only thing he can smell is his spring breeze soapy ginger scent. He turns around, Dean's fingers catching the back of his shirt, and buries his face into Dean's neck. Fuck.

This is breathing, he thinks, and it's ironic, because they're holding each other so tight their chest can barely lift to inhale, but this - _this_ is breathing. This is living. Cas fingers curl behind Dean's neck, grip at the bristle hair and the soft skin there. His lips press the first kiss of what he hopes will be many on the freckled skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," Dean murmurs. His voice is muffled where his mouth is pressed at the juncture of Cas' neck and shoulder, face pressed tight against his neck. "I know we haven't - but I swear I fucking missed you so much."

"I know. I missed you too."

"You smell so fucking good." Dean nuzzles at his neck, kissing, nipping, and his jaw is shaved but it still catches ever so slightly with the more tender skin there. Cas shivers. "A whole month away from you without even a t-shirt or something. Never doing that again."

Cas laughs, and maybe it's a little wet, and maybe he's a little happy.

Dean's hand cups around his jaw. Their foreheads knock. Oh, fuck. This is it. This is it - their make or break moment.

Cas turns away a little. Dean's mouth is on his cheek. "What is it?"

"I'm not good under pressure," Cas repeats. His lame excuse. "And this is - this is everything. It's what we've been waiting for."

"The kiss?"

"Yes. If the first kiss goes wrong-"

"Then the next one'll be better."

Cas pulls back and looks at Dean. There's something so calm about him - even when he's uncertain, even when he doubts. He stands his ground, he stays steady. It's somehow incredibly reassuring.

"You're so sure about this."

"Yeah." Dean grins, thumb tracing the curve of Cas' jaw. "How I see it, Cas, it doesn't matter that much how the first one goes. 'Cause I'm very decided to kiss you thousands of time, so we got plenty of occasions to make up for it."

It's maybe not the best kiss in the world, because it's unexpected. Cas wraps his arms around Dean's neck and goes for it, a bit too eagerly. But Dean laughs, and fuck, he kisses him back, and maybe it's a little wet - forgive Cas for getting emotional - and maybe they're not totally un sync yet, but they want it, and fuck, it feels good to finally get it.

Cas finds himself sat on the counter with his thighs wrapped around Dean's waist, Dean's hands sneaked under his sweater. He's also exploring Dean's body - one palm behind his neck and fingers wondering under the waistband on his jeans. Dean's whole weight presses against him. Dean holds Cas, one palm around his jaw. And he kisses him. Pointedly. Purposefully. And Cas kisses him back, a little dazed but not confused at all.

"Fuck," Dean murmurs. He pulls back, breathing faster than he did before. His thumb brushes on Cas' lower lip, which he's consistently bitten and sucked for the past half hour. "I like the way you kiss."

Cas grins. "Good to know. I like the way you kiss too."

"No, seriously." Dean takes Cas' face between his hands. He's frowning a little. "It's so... soft." His mouth tugs into a smile. "It's really nice. Not how I thought you'd kiss."

"How did you think I'd kiss?" Cas frowns as Dean begins nipping down the line of his throat.

"I don't know. In your videos you're a lot more... intense. Aggressive, almost."

"Aggressive?"

Besides the all-too famous orgy video (that Cas still needs to call Ryan about), he hasn't kissed many people on film. And he remembers kissing them the way he always does.

"Yeah. I don't know." Dean shrugs and smiles, then brushes his lips over Cas' again. "Not like this, is all." He doesn't look disappointed, though. Quite the opposite. "So soft," he hums.

 🍒🦆🍒

Fifteen minutes later and they've laboriously made their way to the bedroom, leaving behind a trail of clothes. Cas straddles Dean on the bed and takes off his shirt, enjoying the way Dean maps his body with his eyes, following the path with his fingers, almost reverently.

"What is this?" He frowns, tilting his head and looking at the words inked on Cas' rib.

"Oh, it's-"

"An enochian good luck spell, really?"

Cas' heart skips a beat. "You can read enochian?"

"Yeah. But I thought I was the only one dumb enough to study languages who might not even have ever been real."

Cas smiles so wide he feels his heart might just jump out of his chest. Something settles inside of him, a quiet certainty, as Dean's fingers run over the tattoo again.

"Apparently there's too of us."

He leans over and kisses him, lazy, unhurried, soft. He likes the way Dean kisses too - his lips are plush, full, smooth, his tongue never over-bearing. Just teasing enough to leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember kissing anyone who he felt so in sync with, and he feels silly for ever worrying about it.

"But a good luck charm, really?" Dean laughs.

"It's an angel spell," Cas chastises him. "Said to have been the oldest magical spell ever written, bonding angels and humans, giving us a little bit of their grace to atone for God's mercilessness."

Dean smiles and rubs his finger on the tattoo. It tickles. "My mom used to say angels were watching over us."

"Well, I have a binding spell inked in my skin that says they do."

Dean laughs and pulls him down again. "I guess we're meant to be, then."

"Careful, Winchester. This is just our first date."

"Screw that. I've been dating you for a month, Cas. This is our anniversary."

Cas giggles when Dean grabs him by the waist and rolls them around, until he's standing on his knees between Cas' opens legs. They help each other out of their jeans. Dean's mouth find Cas' neck, then his chest.

His nose brushes over the mole right above Cas' right nipple. Cas shivers, the nub going hard. "Love that mole," Dean murmurs. His lips brush against his nipple as he speaks, hot breath twirling around the sensitive skin. "Nearly had a heart attack when you sent me that selfie from your bed. Obsessed about it all day."

Cas' laughter morphs into a whine as Dean suckles and sucks on his skin.

"Real fucking shame they put makeup on it in your films. Not the same without it."

Cas frowns. He barely remember if he ever took off his shirt for a film, and he's pretty certain no makeup has ever been applied to his chest.

"No one's ever put makeup on my chest, Dean."

Dean pulls back a little a frowns. His perfect eyebrows are meeting above the bridge of his nose, and there's something in his eyes, something Cas has never seen before. He touches Dean's jaw with his his fingers.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just... you look different. I know I keep talking about it, and I know it's been years since you shot those movies, but you really... you look different."

"Okay..." Cas laughs a little. He feels uneasy, and he wants to smooth the wrinkle between Dean's eyebrows with his thumb.

"Sorry," Dean mumbles. He hides in Cas' neck, laying kisses there between his words. "I - I kind of had a crush on your for months? I mean, Castiel Novak, you had the whole package, pun intended. Like, the body and the moves and the eyes and... But, I don't know. Meeting you, and being with you, you're - you're so different."

"I'm not sure how to take any of that."

The more Dean talks about it, the more Castiel wonders if he remembers those movies correctly. Has he forgotten things? Are there entire scenes he's forgetting in which he was seductive, interesting, and possibly naked?

"Different _good_. Like, you're - somehow, even sexier in real life. Like, pavement melting hot, Cas." Castiel grins as Dean's cock nudges against his stomach. He really means it. "And your smile, it's - I don't know what was wrong with their cameras but they really didn't get it. They didn't get your smile at all. It's so much fucking better in real life. Kind of wasted on screen, really."

Cas rolls his eyes and hides in the pillow, but Dean gently brings him back. He kisses his lips, lingers. Cas wonders for a moment if this is Heaven. Maybe the spell did work. Maybe he's finally caught an angel.

He loses himself for a moment, in the warm weight of Dean's body, the taste of his plush lips. Lips that explore every inch of his skin, until Dean reaches his wrist and frowns again.

"Why d'you remove your other tattoos?"

"Which other tattoos?"

"Thought you had one here."

"I don't."

Dean worries his lower lip with his teeth. He gazes over Cas again. There's something in his eyes. Something unsure, something questioning.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I just-"

His hand brushes on Cas' thigh. Cas can feel the gears in his brain turning, and he doesn't know why. He lets his hands run up Dean's arms, warming up his skin, he brings him down for the softest kiss.

Dean's lips trail down his shoulders and up on the inside of his arm, teasing the sensitive skin inside of his elbow.

"I thought you had an inverted cross on your arm here." Dean kisses the spot inside Cas' wrist. A spot where there's never been any tattoo.

Ice replaces the blood in Cas' veins.

"What did you say?"

"I said-"

Cas rips his wrist from Dean's grip and sits up, shoving him off.

"Hey, wha-"

"What did you say?"

Dean looks puzzled as he sits upright again - Cas has knocked him off his balance.

"I - I just asked you about your other tattoos. The upside down cross and the-" Dean meets Castiel's wide, panicked eyes. "Cas, what's going on?"

Castiel grasps at the sheets and wraps them around his waist. He's naked. He's so fucking naked, and with a complete stranger. He steps off the mattress, feet blindly finding the hardwood floor, and slowly backs away from the man in his bed.

"Cas?"

"What else?"

"What?"

"What _else_ , Dean? What other tattoos did he have?"

Cas realizes he's spoken loud, almost screamed, but he can barely hear himself above the deafening hammer of his own heartbeat. His back is pressed flush against the wall now and Dean is still crouching in the bed, hands open, a very worried look on his face.

"He? I - you - I don't know, I-"

" _Think_. You must have watched those videos dozens of times. You said you - you had a crush on me. Months before we met. You know those videos. What tattoos did I have in them?"

"I don't know. A - that cross. And - flowers, on your ribs or your hips, I thought they were fake ones 'cause you obviously don't have them now. And the alien one on your back - what's going on?"

Cas stares at Dean for a moment. It's like like a void has opened inside of him. Endless, hungry, for every single particle of happiness he's ever been able to gather.

"Cas?"

Cas' vision blurs. He's breathing so fast, too fast, too fast and he can't see anything anymore. Can't feel his legs. Can't stand.

Dean catches him right before he hits the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a terrible cliffhanger... but this story has a happy ending, I promise. 
> 
> find me on tumblr [here](http://casbeanie.tumblr.com/) or [here](http://casbean.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a bit delayed, hope you guys enjoy <3 Don't worry this doesn't end with another cliffhanger. Well. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some violence (between Cas and Jimmy).
> 
> I know Jimmy really doesn't come off great in this story, I'll be talking about it in more details in the end notes.
> 
> thank you [suckerfordeansfreckles](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/)for cheering me along this chapter and helping me make sense of it <3

"Cas. Cas, hey.”

The world falls back into place, and for a fleeting minute, Cas only sees one thing; Dean above him.

He blinks slowly, almost smiles.

“Hey, baby, what's going on-"

And then it all comes back in one heavy, ice cold blow.

“Fuck.”

“Cas-”

"Don't - _don’t_ touch me!"

Cas shoves Dean away and falls back against the bed. Dean stands there, arms still open, staring at him.

"It wasn't me."

"What?"

"It wasn't _me_."

"I-"

Dean blinks at him, looking lost and bewildered. He's still naked, and gorgeous, and Cas wants to scream. Rage bursts and burns inside of him, burning through his throat, he can’t breathe, he can’t think.

"It was not me, Dean, it was never me, you never watched any videos of _me_. Give me my phone."

"What?"

Cas furiously wonders how many times one person can utter the word _what_ in the span of two minutes. It's not that fucking hard to grasp, is it? It wasn't him, it's not him, Dean was about to fuck the wrong damn person. Easy concept of mistaken identity. He grabs his phone out of his discarded jeans himself.  

His heart is pounding, his limbs are numb. He dials a number with shaky fingers. It rings, rings, rings, and Cas casts a look at Dean.

He's still standing there amongst their discarded clothes, looking so fucking beautiful, lost and wide-eyed, begging for Cas to explain how everything has just gone to shit. And Cas would, he wants nothing more than to cross the space between them, kiss him, and tell him it doesn’t matter. That everything’s okay.

But he can’t. And it's not Dean's fault, technically, but that doesn't fucking matter either.

 _Hi, you've reached the voicemail of -_ **Jimmy Novak** _\- please leave a message after the tone._

"What the _fuck_ , Jimmy?” Cas screams, his voice breaking already. He’s sweating and has to readjust his grip on his phone. “There's a man in my bed who thinks he's fucking _you_ right now, care to explain that?"

Cas pauses, tries to breathe. His voice is trembling, with unbridled anger or complete and utter defeat, he's not sure which.

"You've truly surpassed yourself, brother. You might want to put some clothes on before I kill you with my bare hands. A naked corpse isn't classy."

He doesn't even hang up, his phone just slips out of his hands and onto the floor with a thud.

"Cas, what the-?"

"Put some clothes on," Cas growls.

He's getting dressed himself, head pounding, limbs shaking. He can't look at Dean, when five minutes ago Dean stood above him, hard and naked and his.

"Who the fuck did you just call?"

"My brother."

"You have a-" Dean stumbles while trying to pull up his pants. Cas grabs his keys. "Why would I think I'm fucking your brother?"

“I don’t know, Dean, you tell me!” Cas shouts, throwing Dean’s t-shirt in his face. “Exactly what kind of movies did you watch that prompted you to say he had - what was it - the _whole package_?"

Dean stares at him in shocked silence.

“I -  _porn_. Porn, Cas, we’ve talked about this a hundred times, you used to do porn-”

“No. No, I did not.”

“Wha-”

Cas doesn’t need to hear the end of that sentence. He dashes through the kitchen, Dean running after him.

“Wait so who was - do you have a twin or some shit?”

“Not for long.”

Fresh air feels good. The sun going down is almost blinding but it feels good, too. Cas felt like he was choking inside that room, with Dean.

"Cas-"

Dean runs out the front door after him, hurtling down the stairs on his tail.

“Cas, wait!

Dean grabs him by the arm but Cas yanks it away, one hand on the car door handle. Dean’s eyes are wet, his lips are shaking.

"I didn't know - how the Hell was I supposed to know it wasn't you? It was your name, your face, your-"

“He used _my_ name?”

"I mean - yeah, that’s why I was surprised when you said your name was Castiel Novak, I thought porn stars changed their names, but-"

“I’m going to fucking _murder_ him.”

Slamming the car’s door in Dean’s face is satisfying. So is the roaring of the engine, the screeching of the tires.

Dean's tiny figure disappears in the rearview mirror. 

 🍒🦆🍒

Cas’ hands are shaking around the wheel. His vision is blurred and he probably shouldn’t be driving.

Doesn’t matter.

He can’t even feel himself anymore. Can’t see anything besides Dean’s face, can’t hear anything but his voice, saying things, all those things that finally make perfect fucking sense -

_Aren't you shooting?_

_That's your real name?_

_Cas, who are you? Have you ever been on the internet?_

Five minutes later, the Impala profiles itself a few cars behind him. Cas curses. His heart is pounding, his palms are sweating, slipping off the wheel.

_That explains the tattoos, I guess._

_I don't care what you do on camera._

_If anyone can get some, it's you._

He slams his foot on the accelerator, the car jumps forward. His vision is tunneling, he needs to do something, anything, _hurt_ , and no, obviously, he's not going to kill Jimmy, because sending him to prison isn't going to be another thing that Jimmy does to him. Cas’ freedom isn't going to be another thing that Jimmy takes from him.

Although, he’s already taken everything else.

_I don't care how long I gotta wait._

_I miss you._

_You're adorable._

Cas doesn't park, he swerves, the tires scream and he jumps out, adrenaline making his whole body scream. He's never felt like this. It fits, he thinks. A few moments ago he was happier than he'd ever been and now - well. He should’ve guessed the fall would be just as steep.

Cas hears the other car parking, the Impala door being slammed, Dean's voice yelling behind him. He pounds on Jimmy's door.

_You're an actor, Cas. I mean, kind of._

Jimmy lives in a semi basement he rents out of a guy who's definitely a drug dealer, or a pimp, or both, and Cas hates this place, and he hates him, and he hates Dean who's out of breath next to him. He hates this familiar feeling in his chest of his whole fucking life being ripped to parts.

The door swings open, Jimmy leaning against the frame.

"Hey, Cassie, what's-"

_Not how I'd thought you'd kiss._

Cas grabs Jimmy by his dirty, trashy tank top, slams him against the nearest wall, and starts hitting. With his fists, with his arms, with his knees, with his feet. Jimmy's taken everything, everything, _everything_ from him. _Again_. And this time - this time, he took Dean, too.

Cas can hear him shouting, can feel Dean's hands trying to grab him. He shakes Dean away and turns back to Jimmy, who's standing back against the wall, wiping the blood off his nose with a grin.

Cas remembers the way that man looked at him when he interviewed for a field trip in Chile, six months ago. A dream job. The guy said his credentials were excellent, but that sadly he just wasn't a good fit.

Cas' fist cracks on Jimmy's jaw.

He remembers colleagues. Whispering about him. Laughing. He thought it was because he looked like an idiot smiling at his phone all the time. They weren't. They were watching-

Cas elbows Jimmy on the neck and kicks him in the chins.

He remembers Dean.

Dean, at the supermarket, dropping his grapefruits because he thought that Cas was -

A knee to the stomach and Jimmy falls heavily to the floor. He's not even trying to defend himself. Not lifting a hand, not saying anything. He's just laying there, curled up, _laughing_. Laughing in Cas' face, _with_ Cas' face, the one he stole and plastered all over the internet, with Cas’ name attached to it.

Cas lifts his foot, ready to smash his brother's stupid grin. Dean finally gets a grip on him and pulls him back. He stands above Jimmy, like a fucking knight in a shitty, stupid armour, arm raised, out of breath.

"Cas. Stop."

" _Move_."

"No! Jesus, Cas, you're gonna kill him."

Cas looks down.

"Are you dying, Jimmy?"

Jimmy spits some blood on the floor and shrugs.

"May I ask what I did to deserve this warm wave of brotherly love?"

Cas tries to kick him in the balls but Dean grabs him.

"I said don't touch me!"

Dean lifts his hands in the air and steps back.

"You know what you did," Cas growls down at his brother.

"Is this about the-" Jimmy coughs a few times and winces. "The porn? 'Cause it's a free country, Cassie-"

"You _stole_ my identity, you sad pathetic _fuck_. You stole my face-"

" _Our_ face. Doesn't belong to you. Always been so fucking selfish-"

"Shut the fuck-"

Dean makes a gesture to stop Cas from doing whatever he was about to do - probably break Jimmy's legs, honestly - and Cas' fury almost overcomes him.

"Get out of my way."

"You gonna hit me, too?"

Cas stares at Dean, defiant, the adrenaline still buzzing through his veins. His fists shake. His jaw hurts.

Dean doesn’t budge.

Finally, Cas lowers his hands and steps back.

"Change the name, or I'm suing your ass for the pitiful amount you're worth. And then strangling you with my bare hands. I'm not kidding, Jimmy, this is the last fucking straw."

He’s out the door when Dean catches up to him.

"Cas, Cas, _wait_!"

The sun, again. Blinding as it shines the last of its light on this side of the Earth.

"You can't just leave him like this!"

"He'll be fine."

"He could have broken ribs or caused internal bleeding or something!"

" _You_ stay, then."

What is Dean even doing here? Why did he come, if not to be the saviour of the one he wanted all along? How poetic, how romantic. Meeting the love of his life by saving him from his evil twin on a murder spree.

"Jimmy's always had a thing for sexy nurses. Have fun."

" _Cas_."

Cas slams the car door in his face again. 

 🍒🦆🍒

He’s crying in a kitchen smelling like duck.

At least now he understands why he lost so many job opportunities. Why people were staring. Why everything's been like this.

But honestly, nothing matters. Nothing feels. Except...

Dean.

Dean didn't drop his grapefruit because of Cas. Dean didn't get flustered, and shy, and excited, because of him. Dean didn’t get off on the phone because of him.

_You owe me a selfie. Want something exclusive_

_Come on. You?_

_I mean, cause you're - you're you._

Dean thought he was dating his favourite porn star. And Cas thought - Cas thought that for once, someone wanted him.

But no, of course, it was Jimmy. He feels so fucking stupid. How could he even think for one fucking second that Dean would ever want _him_? That they’d fall in love over duck confit and late night phone calls?

This doesn't happen to Castiel. Jimmy is what happens to him. Of course it was all about Jimmy, from the fucking start, it wasn't about Cas, because nothing ever fucking is.

 

Cas hears the front door open and close but he doesn’t budge from where he’s sitting, head in his hands at the dinner table.

"Hey."

He closes his eyes. He can't do this. He can’t look at him, he can’t - he's not even sure why Dean came back. It's too fast. No way Dean only spent ten minutes with Jimmy before leaving.

"Over already?" he asks wryly. "I would have thought a porn star would have better stamina."

"Seriously?” Dean calls from behind him. “You think I fucked your brother?"

"If you didn't, you missed a wonderful opportunity. Not everyone gets to fuck their porn crush."

Dean scoffs. "You're such an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

Cas turns around to glare at him. He can’t quite meet his eyes, so focuses on trying to burn holes through his chest.

"I get why you’re mad, alright, I get it, but if you really think I’d want to fuck your _brother_ \- and by the way, a little warning when you left would have been nice. Something like _hey, my brother's a delusional asshole who jams his tongue down people's throat_!"

Cas tries to pretend he doesn't see searing white. He turns back around, nails digging painfully in his own palms.

"Was it everything you hoped it would be?"

“No! Because it wasn't consensual, because he was clearly high, and because I don't want to kiss your fucking brother!"

Dean walks around the table, trying to catch Cas’ gaze.

"You stayed behind with him."

"Because I wanted to make sure he was still alive and that my boyfriend wasn't going to prison for premeditated murder, Cas. You threatened his life. And he's fine, by the way. Physically, at least."

"Of course he is,” Cas says, trying his best to ignore how the word _boyfriend_ makes him feel. “I wasn't going to actually kill him."

Dean sighs. His shoulders sag and his voice softens. He walks closer and drops in the chair in front of Cas.

"Yeah, well. He's... definitely an asshole. I get the urge."

Dean tries to catch his gaze, extends his hand on the table.

"I had _no_ idea. I swear, Cas, I didn’t know, I-"

Cas doesn't answer, leans back, looks at the fruit bowl between them. Dean speaks again after a minute of tensed silence.

"Why didn't you ever tell me? About your brother, about-"

"So it's my fault?" Cas snaps, grabbing a clementine and furiously peeling it. "Because you didn't know I had a twin? Because I don't have a _tweeter_? I should have known that I wasn't who you wanted me to be?"

Dean straightens up. Cas risks a glance up and finds Dean’s expression completely devastated.

"Who I _wanted-_? I never - I _never_ said that. And I talk to you about my family all the time. About my brother, my mom, my - my dad."

Cas has to look away from the pain in Dean's eyes. He pulls at the fruit's skin too hard and juice spills on his fingers.

"I don't get why you never even mentioned you had a brother. So I'm sorry if I never suspected it was your evil twin doing porn and not you. We're not in a fucking soap opera."

Dean is right, Cas knows. It wasn’t his fault. He did nothing wrong. Cas hid Jimmy from him on purpose, knowing full well it would eventually blow up in his face. Dean confided in him things he could only whisper in a breaking voice, things he’d never told another living soul. Meanwhile Cas hid away half of his entity.

“He fucks everyone I care about.”

Dean blinks.

“Sorry, what?”

“You asked why I never told you, that's why. Jimmy fucks everyone I care about. Every boyfriend, every guy I ever had feelings for, every friend I cared about - he seduced and fucked and made sure I found out, if possible in person. If possible in my bed."

"Why the fuck would he do something like that?" Dean asks in a small voice.

Cas grinds his teeth together, fighting tears that are going to come anyway. “Because he’s a really messed up, fucked up person. And he hates me, because - I don’t know. I don’t even know why, he just does. And taking things from me is the only thing that seems to make him feel alive."

Dean looks sad. He also looks like he wants to reach across the table and take Cas’ hand, and his expression falters a little when Cas tightly crosses his arms and tucks his hands under into his elbows.

“I knew that when you’d know, when you’d meet him, you-” Cas shakes his head. “You’d see. You’d see who I am, when I’m around him. What I become.” He swallows thickly around the ball in his throat. “You saw what I did, you saw - I don’t want that to be me, Dean, but it is. It’s who I am when I’m around my brother.”

“So he makes you go a little crazy. I get it. And I know that what I did is… unforgivable, but - is there any way we could get past this?”

"Dean, you just saw me physically assault my brother and threaten to kill him. How can you even want to pursue anything with me?"

Cas angrily wipes the tears rolling down his cheeks, smearing the sticky clementine juice.

"Because, I-"

"I'm obviously not the person you thought I was. In any aspect. I'm not a porn star, nor am I - whatever else, that attracted you to me. If anything, I suggest you try yourself with Jimmy. Your success rate is guaranteed and at least you'll get what you wanted in the first place."

"How many times do I gotta fucking tell you I don't want him?" Dean has raised his voice, but barely.

"He's not all bad," Cas shrugs, trying his best to seem unaffected. Like it doesn’t matter, like Dean isn't the only thing that matters in the entire world. "Maybe with the right person, someone like you, he could-"

"I don't _want_ him, Cas!"

"Yes, you do! It should have been him, in that grocery store. You wouldn't have even looked at me if it weren't for him. You wouldn't have even noticed me.”

“That’s not-”

“We would have never talked, wouldn't even have met. He's the whole reason we ever got together, because you thought I was him. You wanted _him_ , like everyone else, so go get him, because he's certainly a much better lay than I am."

"You're a real fucking dick, Cas, you know that?"

"Yes. It runs in my family."

Dean glares at him for a whole minutes while they catch their breaths. Cas doesn’t get why Dean isn’t leaving. He should be leaving, he should have left a long time ago. He shouldn’t even be here.

Instead, Dean slowly gets up and walks around the table to stand besides him. Cas looks down at the mess he made of that clementine, half peeled, half smashed, juice staining the lacker of the table.

"You're right,” Dean finally says. “Jimmy's the reason we got together. Without him, we might have never met. But he didn't take anything from you, Cas. I was never his. We can fix this.”

Cas’ eyes jump up to meet Dean’s. It feels like missing a step, his heart jumps to his throat. His green eyes are glistening, begging, and he’s the most beautiful thing Cas has ever seen.

Cas closes his eyes, swallowing down the thickness in his throat.

“It’s not broken, Dean. There’s just nothing to fix,” Cas says, and he wants to die because Dean looks so fucking _hurt_.

“That’s not true.”

Cas kicks back his chair and faces Dean, even though the hole between his ribs hurts so much he wants to die.

“Why are you fighting me? We're _twins_. He’s got everything I have, except that as opposed to Jimmy, and as opposed to your probably very high expectations, I'm average in bed at best, with little to no experience in most areas. You have no advantage in picking me."

"Do you - you think I care about that?"

"You wanted a porn star."

" _No_. I wanted _you_. Still do, Cas." He reaches out for him and Cas takes a step back. He regrets it immediately, according to the sharp pain in his chest.

Dean's voice goes soft. "I want the guy who grows weird berries in his garden. I want the guy who asked me out over duck confit. I want the guy who’s even more of a nerd than I am, who listens to me rant about cars even though he doesn't care. I want the guy with an Enochian tattoo on his stomach, the guy who sends me thousands of pictures of bees, the guy who accidentally licks poop because he thinks it’s a bone.”

Fuck, Dean is so good at this. He was on his high school debate team and it fucking shows. Cas can feel the barriers he's tried so hard to erect in the past hour being broken down one by one.

“That must have been one bad kiss,” he mumbles.

“Yeah. It was. He tasted like ash and booze and - compared to you? Fucking disgusting.”

Cas rolls his eyes but this time he allows Dean to move closer.

“ _You,_  you kiss all soft and-" Dean’s lips curl into a shy, honest smile, and it’s fucking contagious. Dean's smile is impossible to resist. "You taste real sweet. Like a spoonful of honey. And he doesn't smell like you. You smell likes wildflowers, like… Like summer. Like sunshine. Plus, I mean, obviously, no one who'd ever pick him has ever seen you smile.  'Cause your smile, I mean -” Cas rolls his eyes, but he can’t help his heart throbbing at the way Dean is looking at him. No one’s ever looked at him this way before and it hurts in all the right places. “It’s brighter than the sun, Cas. And your eyes… fuck, your eyes, they’re so soft, and so kind, you're so _kind_ , Cas-"

Cas cracks up a smile.

"I think you missed a big part of today's events."

Dean laughs, hands in his pocket, his shoulders shaking. He looks so relieved and Cas can’t help but feel that way too. Maybe… maybe Dean is right.

Maybe.

"I never thought you were anyone else. I never liked anyone else. I like you."

Dean stretches out a hand tentatively. He hasn't given up. He hasn't given up on Cas, no matter how hard Cas tried to make him. Here he is, still, reaching out in the space between them. Cas lets his fingers brush down his arm. He makes a tiny, tiny step towards him. The light that shines in Dean's eyes makes him feel whole again.

“And you know what? You’re wrong. Even without him, I would've looked at you. I would've seen you. And even if that night I hadn't been looking for a porn star, if I hadn't noticed the fucking gorgeous dude with baby blue eyes and the most beautiful smile in the world next to me because I was too focused on my groceries, we would have met anyway.”

Cas rolls his eyes but doesn’t push Dean away. He even leans a little against him, so he can hear the soft murmur of Dean's voice.

“We were meant to be together. And maybe this isn’t about Jimmy. Maybe Jimmy isn’t what ruined us, maybe Jimmy is just the thing that got us together. The side character, the tool in the story that is used to make us meet. Maybe that’s the whole reason he did porn. So that I could meet you. So that for a moment I’d think you were a porn star, and I’d see you, and drop all of my grapefruits, and for some reason you’d think that’s adorable. And then you’d ask me out for duck confit. And then leave for a month. And then we’d fall in love.” 

“Fall in love?”

Cas' heart stops, and then starts again, hammering twice as fast.

“Yeah. I’m - I’m falling in love with you. I mean, kind of already fell, kind of already hit the ground face first.”

Cas tries to rationalize, _needs_ to rationalize.

“We’ve only been on one official date.”

“Yeah. But I’ve seen a hundred of your selfies, and I already see your face in my dreams. I know your voice. What it sounds like when its sad, and when it’s happy, when you're..." Dean bites his lip, cheeks flushing. "When you're aroused. And when you're tired. Or when you’re fucking excited about a rock.”

“It was a very significant rock,” Cas blushes, looking down but still chasing Dean's heat. He didn't realize how close he'd gotten until their feet knock together.

He feels Dean’s lips moving against his temple.

“Yeah. I know. And I know I’m in love with you because I wanna hear all you have to say about that rock. Because I saved all the pictures of all the rocks you sent me. And I wanna - I want to keep getting pictures of all the rocks and sticks and shit you find on the side of the road, all day long, Cas. And I wanna keep sending you dumb pictures from the set, because you’re the only person I’m excited to show my work to. I wanna talk for hours about that knife they found in brazil in that communal burial ground that never shoulda been there. I wanna know what your real sex hair looks like.”

He’s good. He’s a smooth fucking talker and Cas can’t help the smile fighting to spread on his lips. Can’t help the warmth inside of him. The hope that Dean is right. Fuck, he wants Dean to be right so badly. He wants to forgive, he wants to forget. He wants to go back into his bedroom and take Dean apart.

“Look, I’m sure your brother has a lot of…” Dean makes a face, like he's trying, “ _qualities_ , but he really ain't my type. And even if he'd have been the one in that grocery store, even if - no matter what would've happened, I could never fall in love with him. Again, no offense, I’m sure he's great, even though he’s a really shitty kisser, and kind of an asshole - I just - I like _you_. And I’m really fucking glad it was you who was there, because if I'd ever ended up dating him, and then meeting you, I don't think the ' _sorry but I'm actually in love with your brother'_  conversation would have been a lot of fun at Thanksgiving. So I’m kinda glad this happened this way.”

Cas rolls his eyes but he's smiling. So wide it hurts his face.

“You’re aware that Thanksgiving is still going to be extremely awkward?”

Dean laughs and Cas feels it against him, the shaking of Dean's chest, the low rumble of his voice.

“Yeah. I know. And I don’t care. ‘Cause I love you.”

Cas' chest heaves and he grips on Dean's arms to keep himself steady.

"Do you still like me? At least a little bit?"

"Yes.” The sharp intake of Dean’s breath, the ray of hope in his eyes when Cas says the word. Dean meant it, he meant everything. “I like you a frankly frustrating amount."

Dean laughs again, relieved, teary. His arms wrap around Cas as if they belong there, as if they’ve done this a thousand times.

Their noses brush. Dean’s cheeks are pink, and he’s beautiful, and he loves Cas. He loves Cas, not his stupid shithead of a brother. He loves Cas, and he chose Cas.

"Can I say... those words, tomorrow, since today you've technically kissed my brother?"

Dean chuckles, shaking both of their bodies. "Yeah. Take all the time you need."

"But," Cas frowns, speaking against Dean's lips. "I hope you know that I do, too."

Dean is about to close the last of the distance between them - one small inch - but Cas puts his hand on his chest and gently stops him.

“Would you mind - washing your mouth? I just - really don’t want to taste my brother on you.”

Dean laughs again and Cas could never get tired of it. Dean's laughter, his joy, is the most beautiful sound in the entire world. He looks so fucking happy and Cas is dizzy with it.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” Dean moves back and Cas already mourns the loss. “Please still be there when I come back.”

“This is my house. Where would I go?”

Dean bites his lip and stares at Cas for a few more seconds before turning back and hurrying towards the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Jimmy appears to be pretty one dimensional (an asshole and nothing else) in this story. But that's because the story is from Cas' POV. And also because he is an asshole. I have written a whole backstory for Jimmy and for his and Cas' relationship that explains at least /some/ why he acts this way, and why he and Cas are estranged. Cas isn't blameless for the state of their relationship, but he still doesn't deserve what Jimmy's done. (The ass-kicking was long coming, overdue, and deserved.)
> 
> I'm not going to to be talking about Jimmy or their past in this fic anymore than what was revealed in this chapter, but I loved Jimmy's character so much that I decided to write his story. It will be OC, not fanfic, and probably not finished for a few years, but just so you know, Jimmy has a whole story, and it gets better for him (and for their twin relationship) eventually.
> 
> FYI Jimmy's "dirty, trashy" tank top says "I sucked a shark's dick and it was smooth".
> 
> next chapter will take me a few days but hopefully it'll be out next week. it's gonna be a lot of fluff and a lil bit of smut.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> final chapter, fluff & a lil bit of smut

“Cas?”

“I’m here,” Cas calls from the couch.

He can hear the relief in Dean’s sigh, and realizes that for a moment he thought Cas had left.

Dean joins him on the couch, sitting at a respectful distance. His breath smells minty fresh, wafting in the short distance between them. Cas can feel his warmth, just a feet away, and minds himself so he doesn’t reach out.

“Hey.”

Dean’s smile is soft, a little shy.

“You okay?”

Cas nods, but it’s apparently not convincing. A frown draws Dean's perfect eyebrows together, concern troubling his green eyes.

“Do you - do you need some time? I know it’s… a lot. I mean-”

“Do you?”

“No,” Dean says. “But nothing’s changed for me.”

Cas looks down. He wants to say that nothing has changed for him either, but that would be a lie.

“I want you. I want _us_. But…”

Dean extends his fingers until they brush on Cas’ arm.

“But what?”

“But, Jimmy is not going to stop. He's like a dog with a bone. Now that he knows you exist, and that you don't want him, he'll never let this go.”

“So what? I don't want him, Cas."

“But he'll try. If we stay together, he will do everything in his power to ruin us. To take you from me.”

“Well it's not gonna work,” Dean shrugs, like it's easy. 

“We’re twins, Dean. We look identical. And when I say anything, I mean, _anything_. He’ll steal my clothes and get into our bed and-”

“And I’ll throw him out.”

“You won’t know the difference until it’s too late. And it won’t be your fault, Dean, it won’t, but-”

“It’s not gonna happen. I'd always recognize him, no matter what.”

Cas rolls his eyes.

"You don't believe me?"

"I believe you think you can, but when it comes down to it-"

“You got any pictures of him on your phone?” Dean cuts, with a gentle touch of his palm on Cas' arm.

“Why?”

“Find some. Then get some of you, stuff I haven’t seen. Quiz me. If I get it right, you know you don’t have anything to worry about. If I fail, then-”

“Dean, I’m not testing our relationship with a quiz-”

“You need to know you can trust me. We're never going to work if you don't. And I want it to work.”

Cas evaluates him for a few seconds, forcing himself to realize that this is real. Dean is real, long lashes and hopeful gaze, filling the air with his warmth and his smile and  Cas is suddenly floored by just how much he loves him. He wants to reach out and touch, to make sure he isn't just a very realistic hallucination. Dean's cheek is warm under his palm. Cas' thumb strokes over a galaxy of freckles. 

He smiles, and Dean smiles back.

Dean waits patiently as Cas goes through his phone.

It’s not easy to find pictures of his brother with their normal hair color, but Cas finally manages to grab a couple that could be either of them. He hands the phone out to Dean, who takes it with a reassuring nod.

Dean looks at the first picture for half a second before a large smile breaks on his face.

“That’s you.”

“How do you know?”

He’s right - it’s Cas, laughing. It’s from their parents’ wedding anniversary, a couple of years back. It’s all black and greys and white, the picture a little overexposed. Not too many details.

“Cas, I’d recognize your smile from ten miles away.”

Cas rolls his eyes and bites his lip to avoid grinning. Dean could just have gotten lucky, so he doesn't want to get his hopes up. Instead, he shoves another picture of a Novak laughing in Dean's hands.

“That’s Jimmy,” Dean declares without hesitation.

“How do you-? We have the same face, Dean.”

“Yeah, but not the same smile. Not the same laughter.” 

Dean seems ever so confident, and Cas takes a deep breath, trying to tame his hope down, but there's something about Dean that keeps him from doing that. His fingers tingle when they brush with Dean’s as they exchange the phone again. 

The next one is a picture of both Cas and Jimmy, side by side. It was taken during one of the only years Jimmy didn’t dye his hair. He was even dressed decently, for once.

Dean studies the picture for a few agonizing minutes.

“That’s Jimmy. That’s you.”

Cas is speechless, and Dean grins proudly.

“It’s in the eyes. It’s different," Dean shrugs sheepishly. "Your eyes are serious, and kind. His eyes are… they have a spark, but it’s not the same. It's darker, and you're full of light.”

Cas shakes his head, but this time he can't help the wide smile on his lips.

“Try me again,” Dean says, nudging Cas with his shoulder. They've drifted towards each other and now Cas can feel all of Dean's body, warm and firm against his own.

Cas shows him several more pictures, and Dean gets it right every single time. 

“You look like him in this one, but… nah. That’s you.” 

“Are you a magician?”

“No, I just know you. And… him.” Dean rubs the back of his neck, looks down at his feet. “I’ve seen a lot of, um, footage, of him. And I-”

He fidgets with his sleeves. Cas tries to breathe evenly. Remind himself that Dean didn’t know. That whatever he did while looking at those videos, it's in the past, and it doesn't matter anymore, because Dean chose him. Over and over and over again, despite everything, Dean knows him, and chose him.  

“I’m sorry, that I thought you were the same person, Cas. I thought you seemed different because the vids were old, and because it was acting, but I should've known.”

“I should have told you I had a brother.”

“And I should’ve used the word porn when we talked. I didn’t wanna… I don’t know. Insult you."

They smile at each other. The soft, quiet certainty that had settled in Castiel when Dean found out about his Enochian tattoo spreads again, blooming more beautifully than it had before, digging its roots deep under Cas' ribs.

"So, what else you got?”

Instead of answering, Cas grabs Dean’s face with both hands and press their lips together. Dean exhales through his nose and brings Cas closer, until he's almost on his lap. His fingers carding through Cas' hair send shivers down his spine and Cas lets out a small groan, pulling until their chests are pressed together and he can feel Dean's heart hammering against his own.

Fuck, he’s missed this. It’s been three hours since he kissed Dean for the first time, but it feels like it was a lifetime ago. Dean’s big hand cups his cheek, his thumb traces the curve of his cheekbone. Cas can feel him smile against his lips and he deepens the kiss, stifling a noise of content as he traces the shape of Dean’s mouth with his tongue.

Cas feels new again, he feels whole again, he feels _right_ again. He pushes Dean with his palms flat on his chest, until his back hits the arm of the couch, and then moves on top of him. Dean opens his legs, lets Cas settle in between, lets Cas press him down into the cushions. He makes the softest little sounds when Cas trails his lips along his jaw and down his neck. The skin is softer there, warm and smooth and Cas licks, bites, nibbles until Dean’s hand rakes through his hair and pulls. 

“Cas, fuck-” 

Cas hums, grinds down his hips and feels Dean hardening against him. It’s a dizzying feeling, to make Dean feel good, and he’s floating on a fucking cloud, still in disbelief that this is _his_. 

Dean groans under him, his free hand wandering further and further down until he grabs Cas’ ass and rolls their hips together again, and Cas is just about to-

A deafening noise startles them both. They pull apart, wincing, as the smoke detector keeps blaring through the house.

That’s when Cas notices the burnt smell.

They forgot the fucking duck.

🍒🦆🍒

Castiel lets out a breathless moan and digs his fingers further in the soft flesh of Dean’s waist. Dean’s forehead rests against his own, slipping with sweat, and he thrusts his hips harder, deeper.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groans as Cas tightens around him and makes a pleased sound.

“I agree.” 

Dean swallows the rest of Cas’ sounds in his mouth, kisses him greedily and hungrily, his palm flat on Cas’ fluttering heart.

“I love you,” Dean murmurs when they part. He's been saying it a lot, in the past few hours, and Cas knows he'll never get tired of it.

“I love you too.”

“So you’re saying it too, now?” Dean grins between two kisses.

“It’s after midnight, so it’s technically tomorrow.”

“Good point.”

Cas throws his head back and Dean bites on his offered neck, moans as he pushes back in with renewed energy. 

Cas is getting closer and closer to the delicious edge, Dean feels so good inside of him, hitting all the sweet spots. He keeps slowing down to kiss him, to murmur sweet nothings against his skin. Cas wants to bring him closer, closer, closer. He never wants to let him go.

Dean grabs Cas' legs and pushes them further up, the new angle creating fireworks inside of Cas. He's just about to thank God for his regular yoga practice when Dean stops moving altogether. 

“Wait a minute.”

“Please don’t,” Cas growls, tethering on the edge. 

He grasps at Dean’s sweaty skin in a desperate attempt to get him to move again, but Dean refuses to budge.

“We talked about those movies a lot.”

Cas stills. Dean’s lips hover about his own. 

“We _both_ talked about the orgy video.”

Cas tightens his lips into a thin line. Dean shoots him a look split between amusement and curiosity.

“I know what _I_ was talking about, what the hell were _you_ talking about?"

Cas doesn’t answer. Dean straightens himself up on his arms. 

“You were in an orgy video?” 

Cas manages to keep his mouth shut until Dean's fingers mercilessly tickle his ribs and he yelps, surrendering.

“Fine, technically, I was." He grabs Dean's wrist to put an end to the torture. "But it was _not_ porn. It was film made my cinema students when I was an undergrad." 

Dean manages not to look too disappointed.

“Show me.”

"Dean, your cock is still frustratingly pressed against my prostate, can we discuss this at a later time?"

Dean nibbles on his lower lip, his gaze evaluating.

"Fine, but you're not getting away with this."

"I _promise_ to show you all the shitty videos you want if you just keep fucking me." 

Dean laughs. But he does, finally, start moving again, slow and frustratingly languid.

“ _Dean-_ ” 

“ _Fine_ , Jesus, you’re so bossy.”

Cas’ snarky comeback is drowned by the crashing wave of his orgasm. Dean follows soon after, with Cas' name on his lips and his nose buried in Cas’ neck.

  
  
Half an hour later they’re sitting up against the pillows, Cas’ laptop open on his lap. Dean’s fingers are absently playing with the curls on the nape of his neck and neither of them can wipe the giddy smiles of their lips. 

Cas opens the files he retrieved from the depth of his hard drive. Dean watches in silence, obviously trying to refrain from laughing.

" _Let's get washed up for the orgy_? Really, Cas?"

"I told you the dialogues were bad!" Cas exclaims, a little bit insulted by Dean's amusement. 

“This is worse than porn.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine. If you insist.”

Cas yelps when Dean shuts the laptop and shoves it aside, before he straddles his waist and buries him under loud kisses.

 🍒🦆🍒

Cas unpacks the groceries with his heart up in his throat. Excitement and anxiety come and go in waves inside of him, causing his hands to shake, his vision to blur. 

The precious new plate is put away and he's halfway through chopping the vegetables when he hears Dean come in, whistling, hanging his coat, toeing off his shoes. Familiar sounds that make Cas' chest brim with happiness.

Dean walk into the kitchen and suddenly his heat is pressed against Castiel's back. His chin hooks on his shoulder, his thumb strokes Cas' hip, teasingly slipping under his shirt. A pleased hum rolls deep in Cas' ears. 

"Watcha cookin'?"

Cas grins and feels Dean mirror it against his neck.

"Guess."

"Duck confit... Is it our anniversary or something?"

"Or something," Cas teases with a kiss to Dean's temple.

Dean gives his hips once last squeeze and then moves to grab his own apron, before picking up a knife and grabbing one of Cas' carrots to dice. Cas bites his lips to stiffly a giddy smile, all of his fears melting inside of him, and goes back to his task.

 

It's been almost eight months since their first wonderful, disastrous date. They've been through one very awkward Thanksgiving dinner, one slightly better Christmas, and moved in together way too soon according to all of their friends. They've cooked the duck confit several times since, usually on special occasions. Tonight isn't special yet, but Cas hopes that it's going to be.

He's shaking again by the time he carefully hands Dean his plate.

"Did you buy new dishes?" Dean frowns, lifting it to look underneath. 

"Just eat," Cas says, himself totally unable to put anything in his mouth.

He watches Dean hungrily devour his meal, fear expanding in his chest as the plate gets emptier and emptier. Dean's eyes are closed and he hums low in his throat as he swallows the last bite. Cas gets up and fishes the small box out of his pocket. Dean looks down on his plate and frown when he notices the inscription previously hidden by his food. 

He stares at it for a minute, mouth agape. When he looks up, Cas is kneeling in front of him.

"You want to marry me?" Dean asks, his voice hoarse, his eyes wet.

Cas nods, holding out the ring he'd picked up. It shakes between them but Cas still attempts his most courageous smile.

"What do you say?"  
  
"Holy shit."

Dean grabs Cas and hauls him up, and his answer - an enthusiastic  _yes_ \- is muffled between their smiling lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after. <3
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who have followed this story, and who have been on this rollercoaster with me. I am eternally grateful. <3

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [here (fanfic blog)](http://casbeanwrites.tumblr.com/) or [here (main blog)](http://casbean.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> you can reblog this story on tumblr [here](http://casbeanwrites.tumblr.com/post/182770669688/pairing-dean-winchestercastiel-rating-explicit)


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